


Adjustment Period

by WriterGirl128



Series: Of Grapefruits and Galra [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuban Lance (Voltron), Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Established Keith/Lance (Voltron), Established Relationship, Fluff, Galra Keith (Voltron), M/M, Paladins, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-04-01 01:08:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13987191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterGirl128/pseuds/WriterGirl128
Summary: A collection of snippets/one-shots following Keith's very-much-unplanned-for Galra transformation





	1. Going Home (With You)

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel (of sorts) to Shades of Purple; takes place after Keith turns purple, is basically all you need to know before diving in
> 
> Have some disgusting Klance fluff

“Come with me. When we get back to Earth, come with me.”

Keith froze at Lance’s words, his blood running cold. “Come— _what?”_

Lance nodded, an excited smile tugging at his lips as he stepped closer, bringing his hands up to squeeze Keith’s shoulders. “Come meet my family. I want you to meet them—I want _them_ to meet _you.”_

Keith could feel how wide his eyes had gone. “ _Why_?”

Lance’s smile flickered slightly. “Because I want to introduce them to the grumpy asshole that is the light of my life.” His eyebrows drew together in a small frown. “Is that wrong of me?”

Keith’s heart lurched, and lifted a hand to cup his face lightly, thumb brushing his cheek absently. “No,” he assured, “no, it’s not wrong. It’s just—” He broke off, jaw tightening slightly, and shook his head, letting his hand drop. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.” A pause. “And I’m not a grumpy asshole.”

Lance cocked an eyebrow at him. “Could’ve fooled me,” he shot back, and brought a thumb up to smooth away the small lines between Keith’s eyebrows. “Stop glowering, or your face is gonna freeze like that. And then I’ll be forced to look at your stupid scowl for the rest of forever.”

Keith rolled his eyes, but a little bit of the tension melted from his shoulders and he felt his features soften. He didn’t deserve Lance. “Sorry.”

Lance smiled sweetly, fingers lingering on his face, twisting through the hair at the base of his neck. “That’s better,” he approved. “Now—why don’t you think meeting my family is a good idea?”

Keith shifted on his feet, pulling away slightly and shaking his head. “I wasn’t—” he began, but broke off. “I wasn’t really planning on going planetside, at all, actually. I was just going to stay on the Castleship with Shiro.”

Lance’s smile was gone, replaced by a concerned little frown. “What? Why?”

Keith shrugged slightly. “Not like I have anyone down there to go visit.”

Lance just narrowed his eyes at that, though, clearly not accepting it as an answer. “I’m _giving_ you people to visit, dummy. What’s the next excuse?”

Keith’s hands curled into fists, but there wasn’t much fight in it. “You mean _other_ than the fact that I’m pretty much full-blown Galra these days?” His ears flicked back, as if to emphasize the point.

But now Lance simply rolled his eyes, the hand that was cupped around Keith’s neck creeping higher, until he was scratching gently behind one of the fuzzy, purple ears. “Not _full blown,_ ” Lance denied, "I'm still taller than you." Before Keith could even make an affronted noise, he continued on. “Besides. I get to go home and tell my family I’m boning an adorable, smokin’ hot _alien_ and you don’t think they’re gonna want proof?”

Keith groaned, despite how soothing Lance’s fingers were. “ _Lance.”_

“Sorry, half-alien.”

Keith closed his eyes briefly before pulling his boyfriend’s fingers from his head because _quiznak,_ there’s no way he can concentrate with him doing that. “Not exactly the part of that sentence I was protesting.”

Lance simply offered him a bright smile. His smiles were always so bright. “So you _don’t_ want me to tell them we’re boning?” he clarified. “Because either way, I think they’re gonna figure it out sooner or later, _Mr. Likes-to-Break-Bedframes.”_

Keith let out a growl. “That was _one_ time! _”_

“So far,” Lance shot back, wiggling his eyebrows slightly. But a tick passed, and the humor faded from his expression into something softer, more sincere. “Hey. Fuzzyface.” He took a step closer again, bringing his hands back up to Keith’s face and running his thumbs along the lilac, slightly fuzzy cheeks. “They’re not gonna care. You know that, right? They won’t _reject_ you, you’re great.”

“They don’t even know me.”

“No, but they know _me._ And they love me too much to hurt someone _I_ love by being—I dunno. Would that be racist? Hating you for being fuzzy and purple?”

Keith sighed again. _“Lance.”_

“I’m just saying!” he insisted, his hands still cradling Keith’s face. “They wouldn’t do that. They’re not like that.”

Keith didn’t really have anywhere to look but Lance’s impossibly blue eyes, which shone with honesty. Still, he tightened his jaw slightly. “I can’t go back to Earth, not like this.”

Lance rolled his eyes again, but his expression was still soft. “The reason we’re going back is to make Earth aware of everything that’s out here. Get them to join the Resistance _before_ the Galra have a chance at invasion. Which means telling them hey, aliens are real, and only some of them are bad.” He shook his head a little, an encouraging smile tugging at his lips. “There’s no reason for you _not_ to go. Now,” he added, eyebrows raising slightly, “I’m not saying we should go _parading through the Captiol,_ right away, or anything. Obviously not.”

He was still smiling and quiznak, Keith loved those lips. “Obviously.”

“But just… to meet my family? My _mami_ and _papi_ and my sisters and my brothers? Maybe not my _abuelita_ , she’s super Catholic, and would really probably have more of a problem with the fact that you’re a _guy_ than the fact that you’re _purple,_ so—” He broke himself off, and his smile wavered slightly, nervously.

Keith never wanted to see his smile waver like that again.

Still, there was this horrible, hopeful look in his eyes that made Keith’s knees go weak. “Would it really be so bad?” Lance asked, and even his voice was optimistic.

Keith groaned because really, it’s useless to fight against Lance when everything about him is so _bright_ and _charming_ and _endearing._ Bastard. “No,” he grumbled, closing his eyes and dropping his head to rest his forehead against Lance’s. “I guess not.”

And really, when he got down to it, he knew Lance wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him. He wouldn’t let Keith get run down by some angry mob, nailed to some cross, burned at the stake. _Especially_ not by his own family.

Lance’s hands snaked around his waist and when Keith peeked an eye open, he saw Lance grinning, his eyes closed but looking utterly blissful. Happy. It was a good look on him. But everything was kind of a good look on him. Which was unfair.

Still, Keith smiled, leaning into his touch a bit more. “This is really important to you, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is,” Lance affirmed, grin never flickering but eyes opening to regard Keith warmly. “ _You’re_ really important to me. My family’s really important to me. I just… want the people important to _me_ to be important to each other, I guess. But if you really don’t feel comfortable—”

Keith shut him up with a kiss, but it was frankly kind of messy because Lance was a _dork_ and was grinning again.

“Hey,” Lance murmured, pulling away slightly. “Fuzzyface. Asshole light of my life.”

“Lance.”

“Wanna go break some bedframes with me?”

And… maybe they were both dorks, because Keith’s smile stretched into a grin, too, and everything got a little bit messier. “I thought you’d never ask.”


	2. Priorities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith had to face the team eventually, right?
> 
> (The obligatory post-transformation reveal chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline-wise, this occurs directly after the events of Shades of Purple

They had made it to the doors of the training deck before Lance pulled him to a stop.  He turned to Keith, unsure, and opened his mouth.

“If you ask me if I’m ready _one more time_ , I’m gonna put you through that window.”

He blinked. Closed his mouth. Keith wasn’t looking at him, eyes lingering on the door, like he was trying to see _through_ it, trying to see what exactly his fate was once they slid open and crossed the threshold. His fingers clenched into fists, then unclenched, then clenched again. Expression set and stony, utterly unreadable.

Lance, trying to fight back that cloud of darkness over Keith’s head that seemed to be growing larger with every tick, arched an eyebrow. “We’re in space,” he reminded him, keeping his tone light. “A deep pocket of space, lightyears away from everyone and everything. You do that, I die.”

Sharp eyes cut to him, gold and glinting. “Exactly.”

But for as much as his threats were normally worth, Keith’s hands still shook by his sides, jaw tight and shoulders drawn up tensely. His breathing was slow and too-even, forced, like he had to focus in order to keep it steady. He’d never doubt Keith’s _ability_ to follow through, but… he was bluffing. And they both knew it.

Lance took one of Keith’s quivering hands into his own, and for a minute, it seemed to startle him. He turned slightly, blinking wide, nervous eyes at Lance, but held his gaze while he breathed and that seemed to help a little. It took him a moment to unclench his teeth, another tick or two before the tight apprehension faded slightly from his shoulders. He swallowed, squeezing Lance’s fingers.

Lance smiled softly. “So,” he breathed, and his eyebrows drew together in concern as he looked at the other paladin. “ _Are_ you ready?”

Keith narrowed his eyes, ears low. “Seriously, Lance. Quiznaks-first out that window, I swear to God.”

But despite his protest, there was a thick, heavy silence that settled over them. Keith’s ears pressed tight against his head, eyelids fluttering slightly over wavering eyes. Like all he wanted to do was _run,_ run and hide, and it ached a little bit somewhere deep in Lance’s chest.

For a second, there, he had soothed that nervous tension out from just under Keith’s skin. He had taken that doubt that shone through his intoxicating eyes and had done his best to squash it like a bug. He had taken that shame that flushed his cheeks and eased it away with reassurances that nothing was wrong with him, that he was same person he’d always been. The person Red, the most temperamental of the Lions, the Lion least likely to give away trust, deemed worthy to be a Paladin of Voltron. Galra blood and all.

It almost physically _hurt_ to see all that shame and doubt painted on Keith’s stupid purple face again.

Keith’s fingers tightened a little more around his, and he took a long breath. Steadied his jaw, his eyes, his hands. And though his lips were pressed together, the corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he lifted his chin and nodded slightly. “Okay.”

And together they stepped closer, activating the automatic doors and crossing the threshold.

A tick passed where they went unnoticed, and then another. Finally Pidge caught sight of them, freezing in her tracks with eyes blown wide, setting off a series of car-crash collisions. Hunk backing into her, bayard still drawn, Shiro bumping into Hunk, prosthetic arm glowing fiercely, Allura bumping into him, staff twirling between her fingers. Then a gladiator came into view, and from the other side of the deck, Coran blinked quickly before shouting, “End simulation!”

The Gladiator fell to the side with a loud _crash,_ and everything else seemed to kind of just…

Stop.

There was an uncomfortable silence, an unfamiliar _stillness_ that filled the training deck.

So often the site of explosions and clanging swords and blasting weapons, it became eerily quiet. And the team kind of just… stared. For a moment. And it made something press down on Lance’s chest heavily as Keith’s fingers tightened painfully around his, and he could feel the threat of a dangerous quiver just under Keith’s skin. As if even the muscles in his fingers were coiled tightly, ready to spring away to safety.

A moment passed, the silence dense and deafening.

Lance cleared his throat. “I, uh—I figured out why Keith wasn’t at breakfast,” he announced, trying to break the tension.

Wide eyes gaped, wandered, wavered, as if trying to put a puzzle together with their minds alone. Which pieces were sharp with new edges and corners—lilac skin flushed with deep violet, slightly-glowing golden sclera, dark claws extending from his fingertips, fuzzy purple ears peeking out from his hair, soft-looking fur, shorter fuzz on his face but thicker, longer tufts on his exposed arms and legs—and which were… smoother. Differences that melded seamlessly into the image of him they’d always known. The shape of his eyes. Those dark, plum-colored pupils. Facial structure. Height. Build. Nose. Eyebrows. Knife. Mullet.

Hunk’s mouth opened, as if to say something, before promptly closing again. Pidge seemed more curious than anything, eyebrows drawing together inquisitively, eyes surprised but calculating. Coran looked curious, as well, but his eyes were a little harder, a little bit unsettled, while Allura… well, Allura’s expression was entirely unreadable. Tight-lipped and set jaw, but soft eyebrows over cautious eyes. Shiro’s expression was no easier to decipher, his face neutral, not betraying a thing. If it weren’t for the fact his metal fingers clenched slightly, and unclenched, and clenched again, he’d even believe Shiro hadn’t noticed. As if nothing about this picture was out of the ordinary.

Slowly, they all put their weapons _away,_ and Lance took that as a good sign. Beside him, Keith shifted on his feet, eyes glaring down at his shoes and ears pinned to his skull.

Hunk was the first to recover. “You’re…” he trailed off, his voice airy. He swallowed. “You’re holding Lance’s hand. Did you two finally—”

He broke off with a grunt as Pidge sent an elbow into his side, pulling her gaze from Keith and shooting him a glare over her glasses. “Hunk!” she hissed. “ _Not_ the highest priority, right now.”

“I’m just saying!” he hissed back, looking to her while gesturing to where the two lingered, stock-still at the threshold of the deck. “It was an observation!”

Lance wanted to laugh. Of _course_ Hunk would want to address that first.

Though it seemed like a _significantly_ better start than Lance had been expecting, Keith’s fingers pulled away from him as he shoved his hands quickly into his jacket pockets. His ears twitched in discomfort, his jaw set in a grimace while his shoulders coiled and tensed again, keeping his gaze averted, low and unfocused. His breathing seemed to stay steady, slow, but Lance wasn’t sure he believed it. Not with the way his hands still visibly shook, even from the depths of his pockets.

Lance’s fingers tightened in the empty air, too cool where Keith’s skin had touched his, and he forced himself not to be hurt by Keith’s automatic recoiling. This wasn’t about him. This was about Keith.

Slowly, hesitantly, Shiro took a step towards them. It caused Keith to look up, wide and yellowish eyes wavering, meeting the older paladin’s. Shiro’s face was still a mask, impossible to read as he held Keith’s eyes with something undecided in his own. His eyebrows drew together, just slightly, and he let out a deep, slow exhale. “Keith.”

There was uncertainty in his voice, though, _doubt,_ and it made Keith wince. He closed his eyes in it, ducking his head, and it felt like a hand clenched around Lance’s heart and started squeezing it lifeless. Maybe this… didn’t seem to be going so well, after all.

But the little line vanished from between Shiro’s brows, as if seeing the way Keith seemed to shrink into himself at his almost accusing tone. He took a step closer, expression softening. “Are you okay?” he continued, and his voice was gentler.

Keith hesitated, and Lance didn’t really blame him because, _dios_. Talk about a loaded question.

He wanted to grab Keith’s hand, again. Pull it out of hiding and cover it with his own, reassure him that he was still there. He wasn’t going anywhere, whether Keith liked it or not.

Keith swallowed. His neck, his cheeks still dusted with a deeper purple, like a dark shade of lilac. “I—I’m not injured,” he settled on finally, and his gaze flicked to Lance’s quickly as if reading Lance’s thoughts, a small reassurance, before finding Shiro’s again.  “I’m not hurt.”

It wasn’t enough of an answer, though, apparently, and the eldest paladin frowned. “No? Back feels okay, no headache, nausea, drowsiness?” His tone softened even further, showing his concern. “You took… quite a beating yesterday, kiddo.”

 _Did he ever,_ Lance thought, remembering the way he’d convulsed on the ground, the way he’d screamed, and continued to scream, long after the druid had vanished. The way he’d trembled, still, when he’d helped him out of the healing pod hours later and into bed. Quiznak, that boy’s had a rough couple days.

Keith’s lips pressed together tightly, and if Lance didn’t know better, he would’ve missed the corner of his mouth twitching, just slightly. Because, through everything else, Shiro’s ever-present, almost-fatherly compulsions were a familiar comfort. Something constant in a world that had just shifted under his feet. “I feel fine, Shiro,” he assured him, though his voice stayed low.

 _I feel like me,_ the words seemed to say, a double entendre. _I still feel like me._

Shiro held his gaze, that deep purple gaze that was so familiar and yet so foreign, for what seemed like forever. It wasn’t unusual for them to fall into this _silent conversation_ type of staring contest, but this was different. More one-sided, Keith almost too nervous to offer up anything besides wide-eyed uncertainty. Finally, Shiro exhaled, and it was a little forced. Like he was steeling his resolve with it. He placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder, nodding. “Good,” he said, and his lips curled into a small, sympathetic smile. “That’s good.”

Keith blinked at him for a moment, as if trying to see through some kind of false pretense and failed.  He lifted his own hand to touch the one Shiro still held to his shoulder and returned the nod. He wasn’t quite able to return the smile, but his eyes seemed to waver less, and his ears weren’t superglued flat to his head anymore, which was progress.

The weight on Lance’s chest lessened, if just by a fraction.

That seemed to be the cue to the others that it was okay to get closer, Shiro and Keith’s respective nods. As if they’d acknowledge, _hey, this happened, and we’ll deal with it._

Again, Hunk was the first to break the silence, approaching them quickly and scooping the Red Paladin up into a bone-crushing hug. A hurried “ _I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable about holding Lance’s hand”_ tumbled from his mouth, a rush of almost-unintelligible words as he lifted Keith from the floor, spinning him around in circles. “ _I was just so happy for you guys…”_

Keith, for his part, deflated against him in defeat, an even deeper purple flaring in his cheeks. He sent Lance a wide-eyed, desperate look from over Hunk’s shoulder, a silent cry for help.

But Lance did nothing. Because if there was anything more endearing than those damn _cat ears,_ it was the way Hunk’s hug had unclenched Keith’s fists, had loosened his jaw, had drained that stoic, man-of-marble look from his face as he scrunched his nose in horror. The way his eyebrows pulled up a little bit, where they drew close together. The way his eyes, as desperately as they seemed to be pleading for a way _out,_ seemed a little calmer than before. Like the storm clouds behind them had faded, if only a little.

For all his sharp edges, Keith really _was_ just a big softie. And that was the most endearing thing of all.

Lance was grateful to Hunk, in that moment. Because Hunk was too smart not to realize the effect he was having, the way it was uncoiling the tension from every muscle in Keith’s body despite any glare he might send. Hunk, who was gentle and warm and safe. Hunk, who had slid down to the floor next to Lance one day in at training and teased, “Quiznak, Lance, and all this time I thought you liked _girls.”_

Lance had looked up, startled, from where his gaze had drifted. He’d narrowed his eyes. “I do like girls.”

But Hunk had just raised a knowing eyebrow at him and nodded towards the fixation point of Lance’s daydream. “That why you’ve been ogling Keith for the past twenty minutes?”

“I have _not.”_ But Lance’s face had gotten hot, his palms growing clammy. Because, _Jesus,_ where _else_ were his eyes supposed to go when Keith was just over there, training like some kind of space warrior-god? “I told you. Girls— _women._ You know this. _”_

“Right,” Hunk agreed, and nodded. “You like girls. And Keith.”

Lance hesitated, his gaze drifting back towards the Red Paladin. He tightened his jaw, just a little, and allowed for another beat of silence. “I’m bi.”

“I figured.” He waved a huge hand in front of Lance’s face, breaking his visual on Keith. “Seriously, man. Heart eyes.”

“Hunk?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking.”

And the most genuine smile lit up Hunk’s face. “So you _do_ like him.”

Lance sighed, glancing around. “Shut your pie hole before someone hears you.”

But Hunk’s smile hadn’t wavered. “Ah, don’t worry,” he assured, waving a hand nonchalantly. “Everyone knows. Kinda hurt you didn’t tell me, your best buddy, but I’ll get over it.”

And that had made Lance blink, a bit. “W-what? What do you mean everyone knows?” He wasn’t even sure _he_ knew—how could everyone else?

And his best friend shrugged a little, unbothered by this _ground-shifting_ fact. “Well—everyone but Keith,” he backtracked, and raised his eyebrows again. “So are you going to do something about it?”

And Lance had made some sort of strangled noise, and that… was pretty much the end of that.

Ever since, Hunk had been waiting for a day like this to come, and it flushed Lance with a nice warmth to know that he had someone like Hunk out here that cared about him, and his happiness. Someone to be bright and kind and warm while they floated billions of lightyears from home, in the freezing depths of outer space, on the other side of the universe.

Hunk spun Keith around again, and Pidge snickered at the display, at Keith’s unease, and the smile Shiro had worn stretched into something like amusement. Even Allura’s jaw seemed to loosen, her eyes growing soft and losing a bit of that steel that they had held when he and Keith had first crossed into the room.

So he figured he’d let Hunk have his moment with Keith, even when the latter’s eyes narrowed into piercing glints of mostly-yellow and he mouthed the words _help me_ through sharpened, clenched teeth.

Another moment passed with no response and Keith awkwardly lifted a hand, wincing as he pat Hunk on the back once, then twice. “Okay, Hunk. That’s… that’s fine.”

Again, he shot Lance a desperate look.

Finally giving in, Lance rolled his eyes. “Hunk, you’re supposed to be _my_ best friend,” he pointed out. “If you’re gonna pick someone up and spin them around about this, it should be me. Besides— _I’m_ the one who took offense. My hand is delightful to hold, I’ll have you know, because unlike the rest of you Neanderthals _I_ actually _moisturize—”_

But he broke off. Because he’d been swept up in Hunk’s bear hug, slung over his other shoulder with a vice-like arm hooked around his waist. He hadn’t let Keith down, either, though, and—and yeah, now they were both spinning.

When they stopped, Keith shot him a side-eyed glare from behind Hunk’s head. “My hero,” he muttered, but the words weren’t sharp and, _dios,_ if he was going have that not-quite-concealed fondness in his eyes every time he looked at Lance from now on, he was going to go into cardiac arrest. 

Lance patted Hunk on the back, much less awkwardly than Keith had. “Alright, buddy,” he sighed, “let’s not scar poor Keith for life with all of this affection.”

 _No,_ some part of his brain added numbly, _that’s my job_.

Hunk sighed and dutifully set them back down to their feet. Keith let out a long exhale when he did, like he’d held his breath the entire time Hunk had held him. Lance smiled a little, glancing down and straightening out his jacket. The room grew quiet again, for a moment, but significantly less tense than it had been.

When he looked up again, Shiro had a hand on Keith’s shoulder once more. “So, what…” His eyes seemed to flick down and back up, as if once more taking inventory of what he was looking at. “What happened?”

Keith shook his head slightly. “Dunno.” He dropped his eyes slightly under everyone’s watchful gaze. “I just woke up and I—” He broke off. He didn’t really need to finish. His jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists. “Something to do with Haggar’s spell, if I had to take a guess.”

“But what…” It was Pidge that time, that spoke. She was frowning again, and she shook her head. “How?” She looked towards the Alteans. “Coran? Princess? Any ideas?”

Allura had averted her gaze, eyes locked on the wall and somehow very far away at the same time. She didn’t offer a response.

Lance wanted to snap his fingers in front of her eyes, get her attention, _force_ her to be here, and to look at him and _see_ him, see how scared he was, how much he needed their support. How much she wasn’t helping the situation. Like. At all.

Coran cleared his throat a little, stepping closer to Keith and frowning softly. “We should go down to the med bay, have the Castle do a scan or two and see what comes up.” His voice was sympathetic, though, understanding and gentle—anything but hostile.

It seemed to help Keith lift his gaze again, to meet his carefully. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “Sure.”

Coran smiled a little. “And you said you feel alright? No pain anywhere?”

Keith’s shoulders seemed to curl inward, his eyes scanning the still too-quiet room around them. He shifted on his feet, returning his gaze to Coran’s reluctantly. “I—” He broke off, wincing slightly. He took a breath. “A little bit, actually. Yeah.”

Lance’s gaze cut sharply to his. “What do you mean, _a little bit?”_ he bit, hot worry blossoming in the pit of his stomach as he whirled on him, and it made his voice harsh. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Keith’s eyes narrowed into a sharp glare. “I’m sorry,” he grit out through his teeth, defensive, “I’ve been a little bit preoccupied _.”_

“Preoccupied?” Lance parroted, incredulous, his voice rising. Of course Keith would do that. “You’re in pain and you just brushed it aside because you’ve been _preoccupied?”_

There was a low sound from his chest, something between a choked laugh and a growl. “ _Look_ at me, Lance _,”_ he bit out. “I turned into some kind of cross-species monster in my sleep last night, so _yes_ , I’ve been pretty _fucking_ preoccupied _—”_

 _“Ay_ , _cállate,”_ Lance cut him off, because no, _no,_ absolutely not. “Stop being so dramatic! So you turned purple and grew some fur—if you’re in _pain_ you need to tell us that, you quiznak!”

Another growl, from somewhere low in his throat. “ _That’s not even how you use that word!”_

“ _I don’t care!_ Stop being an idiot!”

“Stop being a prick!”

 _“_ Guys!” Shiro barked, cutting Keith’s snarled words off where they stood. “That’s _enough.”_

A tense silence settled, Shiro’s commanding words hanging in the air heavily.

Beside him, Pidge cleared her throat lightly, eyes wide. She leaned into Hunk’s side and tilted her hear up to address him, but never drew her gaze from the still slightly-snarling half-Galra. “Weren’t they… weren’t they holding hands like, thirty ticks ago?” she mumbled to him quietly, shaking her head. “I didn’t make that up, right?”

“No,” Hunk muttered, his own eyes wide as well. “I don’t get it either.”

Shiro settled them with a stern look before turning back to Keith carefully, eyes guarded, because Keith’s ears were pinned to his head again, fists clenching and unclenching, lips twitching like he was ready to start baring some fangs at the Blue Paladin. “Keith,” he said sternly, and the purple and yellow glare cut to him sharply. “Where’s the pain?”

Keith’s jaw tightened his jaw for a moment, luminous eyes flicking from Shiro to Lance and back. He swallowed, his fists unfurling at his sides. “Kind of everywhere,” he admitted, his voice low, a reluctant mumble. He dropped Shiro’s gaze with a small wince. “My—my skin. Bones. Muscles. Everything kind of just… aches. Burns.”

Shiro’s eyes softened, and he brought his gaze to Coran. “You think it’s just from…” He gestured vaguely, and Keith grimaced. “Whatever happened to him? The changes?”

Coran hummed in thought, eyes narrowing. “I—I suppose? Most likely.” He brought his gaze to Shiro’s and then Keith’s, sympathy laced through his normally bright eyes. “Though we’ll need the scans to know for sure. This certainly isn’t…” He winced slightly. “Certainly isn’t anything I’ve encountered before. I’m not exactly well-versed in the intricacies of hybrid transmutations.”

Keith winced. “Right,” he agreed, his voice still low, “of course not. Who would be?”

Keith’s voice had taken on bitter tone, and Shiro frowned at him. “Keith,” he sighed, chastising him gently, and their eyes met again. Shiro offered another small smile, and a reassuring nod. “We’ll figure this out. Okay?”

Keith worked his jaw for a tick. “What if we can’t _?”_ he responded, and Lance wasn’t sure he’d ever heard Keith’s voice be so small. He had the urge to smack him upside the head, but also to just… wrap his arms around him, and never let go. “What if we _can’t_ figure it out and I’m—” He broke off, the words hitching. He swallowed. “What if I’m stuck like this?”

Shiro put his hands on Keith’s shoulders again, turning him bodily so that they were face-to-face. Still taller than the Red Paladin, despite any changes that may have appeared, Shiro bent his head lower to look him in the eyes. “Then we’ll work with it,” he said evenly. “If we can’t figure it out, or there’s no way to reverse it, we’ll work with it, Keith. That’s all we can do.”

Keith pressed his lips together tightly, but his eyes wavered. “It’ll hurt the Coalition. People won’t want to ally with Voltron knowing there’s an enemy in our own ranks.”

Shiro sighed, his fingers tightening on Keith’s shoulders. “You’re not an enemy.”

“I’m Galra _,_ Shiro.” Keith lifted his hands, fingers splayed open on display, purple and pointed into sharp claws. “ _Very fucking Galra.”_

“You were Galra before any of this happened. You’ve been Galra your whole life.”

“Yes, but I could _hide it.”_ His words were clipped, and behind the frustration in his voice, there was something like fear. “People didn’t need to _know._ This?” He shook his head, his jaw still tight. “There is no hiding this.”

Shiro shook his head, eyebrows drawing up a bit where they were furrowed close together. “You shouldn’t need to hide it, Keith. You don’t need to hide.”

Keith closed his eyes, wincing, hands dropping back down to his sides. “Shiro—”

“Look,” Shiro cut him off, and gaze his shoulders another squeeze as he drew him in, still supportive, still assuring, and after a tick Keith relaxed into the embrace. “We’ll run the scans,” he said, smoothing down Keith’s hair before resting his chin on his head. “We’ll run the scans, see what they show. Maybe contact Kolivan, see if he’s ever seen something like this, before, if he knows what might’ve happened. And if we get answers, great. If we don’t, we don’t, and we’ll work with it. We’ll figure it out, Keith.”

Keith drew away from the hug, expression twisting into something unsure, again, something tentative and uncertain, drained of that frustration, that edge.

“Whether it’s reversible or not, you’re still the Red Paladin,” Shiro continued, before Keith could protest again. “You’re still Keith, you’re still a part of this team. This doesn’t change any of that.”

Keith swallowed, and his eyes flicked momentarily around the room, at the other paladins. They lingered a tick or two longer on Allura, who still hadn’t said a word, still had barely _looked_ at him, and again, Lance kind of wanted to just shake her.

But Keith’s eyes landed on Shiro’s again, and he gave a small nod. “Yeah. Okay.”

Shiro gave him a small smile, then, squeezing his shoulders once more before releasing them. “And,” he added, and his tone shifted slightly, a little bit lighter, “if it’s worth anything, it… really isn’t that bad, all things considered.”

Keith narrowed his eyes slightly, and Lance stepped closer to nudge Shiro with his elbow. “That’s what I told him too,” he said, maybe too-proudly, but Keith didn’t look like he was waiting for the floor to swallow him up anymore, which made it worth it. “Told him if anything, he looks like a space cat.”

Keith’s scowl deepened. “ _I do not look like a cat,”_ he said lowly, a little growly, each word as sharp as the teeth he said them through.

But his ears flicked slightly in agitation, and across the room, Hunk covered his mouth with his hand as he dissolved into giggles. “You—you kind of do, buddy,” he giggled. “Hate to break it to you.”

Pidge hit him lightly in the arm, and his laugh cut off. But when she looked over, she offered her own amused smile. “It’s definitely the ears. They’re just so—”

“—don’t you dare, Pidge—”

“—fluffy looking?” Pidge tilted her head to the side, taking a step closer and peering up at them as they twitched. “Can you control that? When they move like that?”

“I—” There was a purple blush creeping up his neck, and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “I—uh. No.”

Pidge only narrowed her eyes further, stepping closer still. “Do you—do you think your _inner_ ear structure changed, as well?”

Keith leaned away from her slightly, the blush bright on his cheeks, now, the ears in question pressed flat against his head. “I, I don’t know?”

“Can you hear better, now?” Pidge pressed on, and she looked about ready to climb his back to get a closer look. “Like, do things sound different? When they move does it—does it focus the sound? Are things louder? Should we be talking quieter? How quiet can we be for you to still hear us? Can you hear—”

“Pidge,” Shiro cut her off, an odd mixture of apologetic and disapproving and amused.

She blinked at him, and then at Keith, who was watching her with wide, flustered eyes.  She glanced back to Shiro. “What?”

“Maybe just… let Coran run the scans, for now,” he suggested.

“Please,” Keith agreed in a strangled voice.

Pidge narrowed her eyes, but folded her arms across her chest and huffed out something like an exasperated agreement.

Coran stepped forward and placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder, smiling with more ease than before. “Well, Number Four,” he said kindly, “what do you say we go get those scans out of the way? The sooner we do, the sooner we may have some answers for you.”

Keith chewed on his bottom lip for a tick before nodding, still looking slightly flustered by Pidge’s flurry of questions. “I—uh, yeah. Yeah.”

Coran squeezed his shoulder and turned to leave, but Keith hesitated before following.

His eyes had found Allura, and his hands tightened at his sides. “Allura—” he began, but was cut off.

“Don’t.” The word was short, with clean sharp corners and all the regality the Princess could muster, apparently. She lifted her gaze to meet his, and her expression was unreadable.

Lance’s chest tightened.

And when she strode closer, that indecipherable look in her eyes but determination in her gait, it seemed like she’d finally made up her mind. Keith shifted under her hard gaze, lowering his own eyes away, his ears lowering as well, unsure of what was to come. He wasn’t the only one.

Allura stopped directly in front of him, chin up, the epitome of royal stature if Lance ever saw it.  But she waited, there, as if anticipating something from Keith, who merely shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

She narrowed her eyes slightly, shoulders squared. “Look at me, please, Keith. Look at me and hear my words, because I do not desire to repeat myself.”

Well. That didn’t sound too promising.

Slowly, reluctantly, Keith dragged his gaze up to the Princess’. His body language screamed unease, expecting disgust, or hatred, or disappointment, and Allura’s gaze stayed steady, did not waver in the slightest.

“My duty as Alfor’s heir is to protect this castle, protect the Lions and their paladins, and to, most importantly, protect Voltron, by however means necessary. I have made mistakes in the past, that have risked this team’s health and wellbeing, decisions that ought not to have been made.”

Keith seemed to shrink into himself. Lance could almost see the thoughts in his head, the jarring, sharp thoughts of, _no, no, she’s kicking me off the team, because of this, because I’m like this. She decided to let me stay, and she finally realized it was a mistake._ But his gaze never left the Princess’, dread woven through his dark irises.

“I have made rash, impulsive decisions in the past,” she continued, and that air of professionalism, that cool countenance she wore started to crack, a little bit, as her eyes grew soft. “I have let personal experiences color over the lines of my judgement, and I have _hurt_ you. I have broken your trust and the trust of your fellow paladins, and there are no words adequate to convey my regret.”

…oh.

Oh?

Allura continued, and Keith’s gaze steadied slightly. “So long as I am Alfor’s heir and the pilot of the Castle of Lions,” she assured him, “I will not make such a mistake again. For that, you have my word.”

Keith hesitated, watching the princess for a moment. Slowly, he blinked, his eyebrows drawing together. “So, you’re saying—” he began, unsure. “You’re saying you… _don’t_ hate me?”

Whatever stoniness remained in Allura’s expression melted away at that, and she offered him a small, sad smile. “I’m saying I am _sorry,_ Keith. I’m sorry that my past words and actions have hurt you, have… planted doubt in your mind, that I would be anything less than accepting of everything you are.” She shook her head a little, and there was a determined glint in her eyes. “I am saying that I have been closed-minded, in the past, and it is not a mistake I will make again.”

Keith let out a long, but quiet, exhale. “Oh.”

Allura’s smile flickered slightly, and Lance saw the guilt in it when Allura pulled him into her own embrace, shaking her head. “My duty is to protect Voltron and its paladins,” she repeated, quieter, and Lance suddenly felt like he was looking in on a very private moment he wasn’t supposed to be seeing, especially when Keith seemed to relax into her arms, the tension visibly uncoiling out of him. “I have done a poor job of protecting you where it matters, Keith, and I am sorry. I will do better.”

And Keith hesitated slightly, but returned the hug, rubbing her back slightly in a gesture of comfort. “I—it’s okay, Princess,” he assured her, but his voice was quiet too. “Really. And I—” He broke off, as they pulled away, but he seemed _steadier,_ he seemed calmer, and he gave her a small nod. “Thank you.”

She offered him a small smile and nodded towards Coran, standing in the door. “Now off you go,” she instructed, dismissing him, and turned towards her advisor. “Coran, please run a standard physical assessment, as well. Keith’s wellbeing is our first priority, and we’ll worry about the rest once we know for certain he’s stable and healthy.”

Coran’s face broke out into the kind of smile Lance had only ever seen his parents wear, quiet and proud, as he ducked his head dutifully. “Right away, Princess,” he agreed, and gestured from the room with his arm. “Number Four?”

 Keith’s eyes drifted across the team’s again, for a moment, lingering on Shiro’s for a beat before offering them a small nod.

He didn’t say a word, but that single nod held so much gratefulness in it that it was impossible to miss.

Keith turned and followed Coran from the room, and Lance’s heart shot up into his throat.

_No._

“Hey, Fuzzyface—wait!” he called suddenly, running after them.

Having nearly made it out of the room, Keith groaned, halting in his tracks and turning to the Blue Paladin. He looked too exhausted even to complain about the nickname. “ _What?”_

Lance huffed, taking Keith’s hands in his own again and giving them a squeeze. Some of the sharpness melted from Keith’s expression, his mouth becoming softer, his eyes tired. Lance shook his head. “Never say that again.”

Keith just watched him, eyebrows drawing together slightly.

Lance sighed, shaking his head. “You’re not a monster. Never say that again.”

Keith closed his eyes, exhaling sharply. “Lance, I—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Lance’s voice was firm, the words steady. “Next time I hear you thinking like that I’m gonna shave your head in your sleep. And you’re all furry now, so you’d look even dumber than normal. Get it?”

“Lance—”

“ _Keith.”_ There was an edge to the name. “I said I don’t want to hear it. And I know things are weird, and you feel weird, and it’s probably a little overwhelming and I’m not trying to invalidate that, I’m just— I’m just saying that thinking like that is gonna lead you to a bad place, and I’m not about to let that happen. If a mullet needs to be sacrificed to get that through your thick skull, then I’m willing to make it happen.”

Keith just watched him for a tick, but there was fondness filling his expression and his glare had no heat in it. He squeezed Lance’s fingers, and the corner of his lips twitched even as his eyes narrowed further. “Stay away from my hair, sharpshooter.”

Lance grinned. “So we have a deal, then?”

Keith just rolled his eyes.

Lance tugged him into his own hug, and there was no hesitation from Keith as he returned it, this time, and Lance pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Okay,” he murmured, and pulled away, pushing Keith towards the door. “Go with Coran and make sure you’re not dying, yeah? Stop getting distracted.”

Keith rolled his eyes again, pushing Lance’s shoulder. “Stop distracting me then, you ass.”

“Hey,” Lance denied, taking a step back and lifting his hands innocently. “It’s not _my_ fault you find me so distracting.”

And Keith just groaned, turning on his heel away from Lance and stalking towards the door while behind them, Pidge made a kind of strangled noise.

“ _Get a room,_ you two. Is this what it’s gonna be like, from now on? I think I liked it better when you hated each other.”

Lance turned to her while the door to the training deck slid shut in Keith and Coran’s wake. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but Hunk spoke before he could.

“Lance hasn’t hated Keith since before the Garrison, Pidge,” he laughed, and Lance turned his glare to his best friend indignantly. Hunk held up his own hands. “What? Am I _wrong?”_

Well, _no._ But. He didn’t have to call him out like that.

“I’m just happy you finally made your move,” Hunk continued. “All that pining was making you twitchy.”

“ _I was not pining,”_ Lance denied quickly, but there was heat in his ears. “And, for your information, _I_ didn’t make a move. This was _allllll_ Keith.”

Even Shiro’s mouth fell into a small ‘o’ of surprise, and a beat of silence passed as they all processed the information, the ridiculous unlikeliness of it.

“Well,” Pidge muttered. “That’s unexpected.”

Lance grunted out an agreement. “Yeah. It’s been… quite the morning.”

Pidge’s face twisted into something puckered, like she’d thought of something especially nasty. “Just—do us a favour, huh? No sex anywhere we’re gonna accidentally walk in on you? I’m scarred enough as it is.”

Lance choked on a cough, because _Jesus Christ,_ that kid had no filter. He beat a fist against his chest as Shiro sent a disapproving “Pidge _”_ her way.

“What?” she enthused, throwing her own hands up, “my point is valid! No one wants to walk in on…” she trailed off, gesturing at Lance and scrunching her nose. “… _that.”_

If Lance hadn’t been blushing before, now he definitely was. He zeroed his glare onto her. “Listen here, you little shit—”

“—Lance _—”_

“—just keep the public areas safe for us touch and everything will be fine—”

“— _Pidge!”_

And on they quarreled, and Lance’s face was ticks away from spontaneous combustion, but for the most part he was glad. Because things were falling into line just as they should, down to that exasperated little line between Shiro’s eyebrows as his space-children bickered and he failed to keep the fondness out of his eyes.

And if Keith planting one on him out of the blue was a bigger deal to the team than the fact that he was suddenly purple and fuzzy, Lance was pretty sure everything would be just _fine_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I haven't updated this fic as much as I've meant to! I've been pretty focused on another fic I've been doing, as well as, y'know, college. So. I'm wrapping up with the other fic though, and finals are done soon, so hopefully I'll be able to post more regular updates here! Sorry for the wait!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited about this story. Each chapter will be a separate snippet/one-shot, existing in the same universe though chronology isn't a thing and they won't necessarily (read: definitely will not) go in any semblance of an order. Some will be fluffy nonsense like this, and some will be angsty af so really you're getting the best of both worlds
> 
> Preview of what's to come: paladin family feels, the painful process of growing a tail, a trip to a planet of escaped Galra prisoners, the Big Reveal, and more


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